


What Really Happened in Budapest

by ThePhaisyRetreat



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: AU, Don't Touch Lola, F/M, Lola Tuesday, Make Outs, The Phaisy Retreat, Theme Week
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-23
Updated: 2017-05-23
Packaged: 2018-11-03 19:06:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10973487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThePhaisyRetreat/pseuds/ThePhaisyRetreat
Summary: Finally, Daisy - and even Coulson - learns the complete story of what happened in Budapest.A Lola Tuesday short fic written by Director Puppyface





	What Really Happened in Budapest

"I saw Lola parked in the garage. How's she doing?" Clint asked with a smile, and Coulson narrowed his eyes.

"Don't make me remind you of Budapest." He warned, and Clint's smile practically evaporated. Nat pressed her lips together and ducked her head into the refrigerator, and Daisy looked between the three of them with a raised eyebrow.

Coulson disappeared up the steps toward the Director's office without another word, and Daisy gave Clint an inquiring look as she followed him toward the couch.

"So what _did_  happen in Budapest?" Daisy wondered, putting her feet up on the coffee table and slouching down into the couch. Clint mirrored her position, chuckling lightly as he settled into the cushions. "That's not the first time I've heard Coulson mention it."

"Nat and I, uh, angered a pretty powerful Hungarian gang." Clint explained, brushing his fingers through his hair. "They wanted a car that we were driving, and we wouldn't give it to them... and it turns out, my Hungarian isn't as good as I thought it was,"

"It's damn awful." Nat put in dryly, plopping down on the other side of Daisy. She passed them both a beer, popping open hers as she continued, "He insulted them pretty harshly. One thing led to another, next thing you know, we're getting shot at from left and right, we're getting chased across the city, _and_  - to top it all off - our handler has no idea any of this is going on. He's in a meeting at the Embassy."

"Your handler was Coulson, right?" Daisy asked, and Natasha looked surprised that she knew. "He's mentioned that, too."

"Yeah. And the uh...well, it was his car." Clint winced, looking like it was still a testy subject, even after all this time. Daisy opened her mouth in shock and sat forward.

"Shit! _Lola_? You stole Lola _and_  you almost got her taken by a gang?!" Daisy exclaimed.

"Pretty sure that was when he really started cracking down on his 'no one touches Lola' rule." Nat replied.

"Oh, sure, worry about the car, and not about us," Clint rolled his eyes at Daisy, "Just like Coulson. God, I'd never seen him so pissed."

Daisy shook her head slowly. She couldn't even imagine.

 

* * *

 

"You're going with them?" Coulson asked with surprise, approaching Daisy near the loading ramp of the QuinJet.

She nodded the affirmative as she double-checked that her gauntlets were secure.

"Well," Coulson mused with a soft sigh and a little smile, "Come home safe."

She returned a smile, knowing that he was a little wistful that she got to hang out with some of his old superhero pals, and she nodded, giving his shoulder a companionable squeeze. She turned and took a step toward the QuinJet, but then Coulson said,

"Oh, and - " and he grabbed her arm, pulling her back around, pulling her closer, tilting his head and then - he was kissing her.

Full and soft and intentional and filled with something more, brimming just beneath the surface. He eventually pulled away, looking at her softly, his hand on her arm the last part of him to break contact with her. She blinked, startled, staring at him.

"Will there be more of that? If I come home safe?" She asked a bit breathlessly, and he gave her a wide, close-lipped smile, his eyes sparkling (possibly with that something more she'd felt in his kiss).

"If you'd like." He flirted gently, and she nodded very seriously, reaching up and squeezing his arm just above his elbow.

"Okay," she was still nodding as she pulled back and took a step away from him, "Okay. I'll come home safe." She promised him, this time walking backwards a few steps before turning to board the QuinJet, so she could look at him just a little longer. She knew she was still probably looking pretty dumbfounded while the loading ramp lifted up and closed between them, and he had that slight little dirty grin on his face up until she couldn't see him anymore.

"How fast do you think we can take these guys out?" Daisy demanded, as she hurried into the copilot seat and fastened herself in. Clint looked at her wryly, having missed the exchange in the garage.

"Why, do you have plans?" He joked, and Daisy looked at him very seriously.

"Yes. Yes, I do have plans." She told him, nodding, and he raised his eyebrow at her before deciding he wasn't going to ask, and focused on getting the plane into the air.

Nat smirked quietly from her jump seat as she checked all of her weapons. She'd had a prime view of the exchange in the garage, and she was pleased to see that her old friend still had it.  
  


**... ... ...  
  
**

They got back late, no worse for wear, but well past the scheduled return time. Strolling down the loading door as it lowered to the ground, Daisy noted that only the minimal crew was out and about, ready to secure and refuel the jet before they themselves turned in for the night.

Curiously, Lola was pulled close to Mack's work area, raised off the ground slightly on the floor lift.

"Huh, Coulson must've been pretty worried about us." Clint commented, shifting his bow more comfortably over his shoulder.

"Why do you say that?" Daisy asked, and Clint pointed toward Lola.

"This time of night? He only does that when he stressed or worried about something. Says it helps him relax." Clint explained.

"Why don't you go give him a debrief?" Nat suggested casually, and Daisy whipped her head toward her so fast, a joint in her neck popped. Nat grinned, her only tell that she'd chosen her words on purpose. "Let him know we all made it _home_  safe and sound."

Daisy blushed slightly, realizing that Nat must've seen her interaction with Coulson prior to the mission.

Nat threw her arm around Clint's shoulders and led him toward the interior of the base.

"C'mon, Barton, let's go get a beer. I need to put my feet up."

"You and me, both, girl." Clint agreed, making Nat laugh, and the two of them walked away, leaving Daisy hesitating in the middle of the hangar bay.

Various clanging and indistinct chatter behind her reminded her that they weren't entirely alone in here right now, and she squared her shoulders, going for casual as she approached Lola.

She saw his jean-clad legs, first; bent up so his feet were flat on the ground as he lay on his back atop a crawler. He was reaching up with both hands for something underneath the car, his worn tee riding up his stomach.

"Holy hip-dents, Batman." Daisy murmured under her breath, admiring him for a moment. She'd always known that he was fit, of course, but _damn_. That glimpse of stomach left her rather breathless, particularly regarding the dark patch of hair that stretched up beneath whatever the rest of his shirt was hiding, and down beyond the waistband of his jeans...

Clenching her fists and trying to get a grip on herself, Daisy stepped closer to the car and gently kicked the side of the crawler. Coulson flinched a little, surprised, and rolled himself out where he could see.

He first looked surprised and then immensely pleased once he realized it was her, and he scrambled to his feet.

" _Daisy_ ,"

She had a feeling he wouldn't be looking at her like that if he knew that there were still other people in the hangar, and she sent him a gentle smile.

"Don't see her with the top on, too often." She mused, resting her hand against Lola's door for a moment. Coulson tilted back on his heels, gathering himself a bit, and managed to look far more 'casual Director' as he replied,

"Keeps the interior clean, especially when she's parked in here. Plus, you know," He grinned wryly, "the car is bulletproof, but the seats aren't."

He glanced over across the room when he noticed movement, nodding toward the agents who had finished their duties for the evening and were headed off to relax or sleep.

"Nice shirt." Daisy mused once they were alone, eyeing the slightly-too-small tee. _Wow_  his arms looked really good in that.

She swallowed before she started drooling or did something else just as embarrassing.

"You like The Kinks?" He wondered, pleasantly surprised, and she smirked.

"Gotta be honest, only a little bit." She admitted, and stepped close to him. He smelled of light perspiration and car oil, but beneath that he smelled like _him_ , and it made the tips of her fingers tingle. "But I _really_  like that shirt." She touched his arm just beneath the hem of the sleeve, trailing her fingers against the dip below his deltoid muscle, down to his elbow and along the back of his arm.

His eyes flashed, and she dropped her arm, suddenly remembering about the cameras in the hangar bay.

"Can we sit in Lola?" She asked, and he looked a little lost for a moment. "It's been a while, right? Since we were both together with her."

"It has." He eventually agreed gruffly, his eyes and face all soft and warm and making it _incredibly_  difficult for her to keep her hands off of him.

"Well?" She prodded gently, walking around the back of the car slowly, trailing the same hand that had touched him against the paint of his car. She glanced back at him to see him work his tongue inside of his mouth for a moment and then swallow.

"Let me lower her," He said, clearing his throat, and moving toward the controls for the lift.

They were on the same side of the car again, now, and Coulson stared at her while he held his thumb over the controls, both of them silent while they waited for the car to lower completely.

Daisy felt breathless again by the time Coulson released the controls, and fumbled for a moment before she managed to open the passenger door, still facing Coulson. Fuck it, she could edit the camera feed later.

"Come here." She accidentally ordered, her arousal evident in her lowered tone. She would've been embarrassed by that, except Coulson immediately obliged without hesitation, sliding his hands into her hair as she gripped the front of his shirt with a fist.

She leaned back against the frame of the open door, but they didn't kiss, not yet. He rested his forehead against hers, breathing with her, his chest rising and falling in time with hers. She lifted her other hand between them, looking back and forth between his eyes as she slowly brushed her thumb along the curve of his top lip.

His fingers gripped her hair just a bit tighter, as he resettled his weight even closer to her, his body pressing against hers now. Their noses bumped together, and she smiled, laughing a little. He closed his eyes for a moment, rolling his forehead against hers to nuzzle her, and she removed her fingers from his mouth.

"Kiss me," She said hoarsely, her order purposeful this time, and licked her lips, " _please_ -"

He moaned before his lips even fully connected with hers, kissing her deeply as his fingers tangled further into her hair.

His hands were probably covered in oil and grease and dirt but she didn't care in the slightest - not when his mouth felt like _this_.

He pulled his head back with a rush of air, both of them momentarily forgetting to breathe and needing to take a second. He blinked at her slowly, and she released her death-hold of his shirt, yanking hurriedly at her gauntlets, removing them and tossing them onto the floorboards of the car.

He made a sound in the back of his throat that filled her with warmth, and slid his hands reverently across her shoulders and down her upper arms as she struggled with her utility belt.

"Damn, damn, damn," She muttered as the catch fumbled between her fingers for a second.

He tugged at the front zip of her top, pulling it down slowly, and she bit her lip in frustration before finally getting free of the belt and tossing it down with her gauntlets. Just as he got the zip down to her sternum, she turned them around and pushed him down into the car.

"I don't know if there's enough room," Coulson mildly protested, scrambling into the passenger seat nonetheless, watching with parted lips as she pulled off the holster on her thigh and set her gun on the roof of the car.

"God, I'm too exhausted for that type of yoga," Daisy laughed, ducking under the roof and bracing her hands on Coulson's shoulders as she wriggled over on top of him. His hands immediately went to her waist to help steady her as she straddled her knees around his thighs, and stretched her arm back out to shut the door, enclosing them in the relative darkness of the car.

He stared up at her like he thought she was the most amazing thing, and she laughed a little nervously.

"But making out, though, that's a thing, right? Classic cars, old rock music, making out..."

He wrapped his arms around her waist before she'd even finished her sentence, holding her close as he slanted his lips onto hers.

"Not old," He muttered between kisses, " _vintage_."

She smiled against his mouth, sliding one of her hands up beneath his tee, enticed by both it's softness and what was beneath it. She hummed approvingly, and his arms tightened as he shifted his hips upward.  
  


**... ... ...  
  
**

Nat and Clint lounged at the dining table, sharing a few beers in comfortable silence as they relaxed after the relatively easy but long mission. Clint slouched in his seat, his ankles crossed atop the edge of the table, and Nat sat facing him, her feet settled comfortably in his lap.

Neither of them felt any need to break the silence, that is until Nat heard footsteps approaching and made eye contact with Coulson, just as he entered the room.

"Saw something a few minutes ago that reminded me of Budapest." Nat announced casually, taking a sip of her beer, and Clint slowly lowered his bottle, furrowing his brow at her. His back was to the door and he'd turned down his hearing aids, so while he knew what she had said, he didn't know that Coulson was standing behind him.

"When you went to check on Daisy?" He wondered, and Nat's expression changed just slightly with amusement. Coulson gaped at her, mildly horrified for more than one reason.

"You had sex in my car?!" He exclaimed, loudly enough that Clint heard him, and Clint spit out his mouthful of beer in surprise, dropping his feet to the floor and setting his bottle onto the table as he reached to turn up his hearing aides. Nat grimaced at him and pulled her feet from his lap, wiping the remnants of his spit-take off of her pant legs.

"Geez, Coulson, I hate it when you -!" Clint started to complain, and then quickly reverted back to the topic at hand, gaping at Daisy who stood rather calmly next to Coulson. "Did you just do the frick-frack with the Director?!"

"I can't believe you two had sex in my car!" Coulson complained before Daisy could answer.

"I can't believe Mr. Button-Up here had a quickie in the garage!" Clint returned.

Coulson made a move to go after Clint, but Daisy grabbed his arm with both hands and held him back. Clint deftly leapt around Nat's chair, putting her between him and the peeved Director.

Nat just sat there and grinned, drinking her beer.

"C'mon AC," Daisy tugged gently on his arm, whispering none-too-quietly into his ear, "remember those certain things I told you I didn't want Lola to see me do to you?"

Coulson's mouth fell open for a moment as he lost focus, which was what Daisy had intended, but now both Clint and Nat were giving her identical looks, eyebrows raised high atop their foreheads.

Coulson let Daisy pull him toward the stairs, but he glared at the other two and pointed a warning finger at them.

"Don't. Touch. Lola. _Ever_." He enunciated each word slowly and pointedly, his threat more than apparent.

After one last warning look, he let Daisy lead him up the stairs.

Clint stayed where he was, behind Nat's chair, blinking for a few seconds.

"You're not surprised?" Clint wondered, and she rolled her eyes at him as she leaned forward to grab his beer, sliding it behind her toward him.

"Of course not," She scoffed, leaning back comfortably in her chair, propping her feet back up in Clint's empty one. "Did you not see his face yesterday, when they were talking by the car?"

"I'm not nosy, like you are," Clint tried to defend, and she snorted.

"Please." She muttered around the end of her bottle, taking a drink as Clint returned to his chair, lifting her feet as he settled in and resting them back atop his lap. "Anyway, her hands were all over it. He was practically beside himself,"

"Because he doesn't like people touching it,"

"Oh no," Nat corrected, "He very much liked _her_  touching his car."

Clint wrinkled his nose at her and took a drink before muttering,

"Why do you manage to make every single thing sound incredibly dirty?"

"You didn't seem to have a problem with me talking about Lola's _gear shift_  in Budapest," She mused lightly.

"That was different and you know it." He returned, though his eyes glittered with amusement now. They smiled at one another as they both enjoyed the memory, and eventually Clint sighed and held his bottle in the air between them. She tapped her glass against his, and winked, and they enjoyed the last of their beer in comfortable silence once more.

* * *

 


End file.
